Page 52 of Enzo

I scoff loudly. “For your fifteen minutes of fame?”

I'm starting to understand a lot of things all of a sudden. I sink into an empty chair and hold my head in despair. All I can think of is Enzo.

“You're making money off that poor man's misery. This isn't our story, Kiki. I need you to take the videos down.”

“Is he miserable?” She frowns, and stops tapping away on her keyboard. “I doubt it. I gave him ...” she pauses, then points the finger at me. “You gave him a lot of good publicity. He'll probably want to thank you for it.”

A wave of nausea washes over me.

Oh God, no.

I hadn’t thought about it like that. Enzo waking up to strangers watching him, talking about him, picking apart something that was never meant for them to see.

And I’m the reason they have it.

“They were private videos.”

She laughs. “They're not so private now.” She peers closely at her screen. “I’ve made another eighty dollars while I've been talking to you.” She picks up another strawberry and takes a bite. “I'm sure he's not as bothered by this as you are.”

She doesn't know what she's talking about. I spent enough time with Enzo to know that the man wants to be left alone. He doesn't want the glare of the spotlight on him.

I’ve broken his trust.

There's no point in staying here any longer. I won't convince her to change her mind, so I leave without even saying goodbye. I head for the door, then remember something. I fish it out of my pocket.

“I bought you a souvenir.”

I toss the fridge magnet onto the table.

Chapter 13

ENZO

I have a meeting with Luca Valizar.

I arrived in Chicago early this morning and checked into my hotel. I’ve had many business meetings here but today I feel a sense of apprehension, or maybe it’s anticipation? This man intrigues me. I’m curious as to why he reached out now, instead of when I was in Venice.

I have no idea what he looks like. The few articles that have been published about him never reveal who he is.

But Molly has seen him.

I didn’t even get around to asking her about that. As much as I try to push all thought of her away, it hasn’t been easy. Luckily, meeting Valizar is a good distraction. But as I drive to the address I was given, I’m sure there’s been a mistake. I park on the street, but this isn’t a corporate office. It can’t even be classified as a building.

What I’m staring at are the ruins of an old mansion.

I get out of the car and stare at the scaffolding. There's debris everywhere, walls knocked through, some half-stripped. I notice a few enormous stained-glass windows that surprisingly manage to stay up on one complete wall.

Workmen are everywhere. This place is a shambles. Who in their right mind would have a meeting here? Convinced I have the wrong address, I check the email again.

To my surprise This is the correct place.

I walk up to the building. Noise comes from every direction—drilling, hammering, men calling to one another.

In the far distance, through a crumbling wall, I see a tall man in a dark suit. I have a feeling it’s Luca Valizar.

Smoothing down my tie, I walk towards him, away from the drilling and noise. He has his back to me, and he appears to be talking to someone in a hard hat. I don't know what he expects us to talk about in the middle of all this commotion.

I approach them, and stand aside, careful not to interrupt. Luca holds something in his hand. It looks like a ceramic tile. He turns it and examines it. I take a few steps closer to get a better look. Neither of the men have noticed that I'm here.